


Purple

by rosalynbair



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:30:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosalynbair/pseuds/rosalynbair
Summary: some bad fluff that has Peter making purple out of red and blue paint





	Purple

“How did you get paint on your feet?!” Peter exclaims, laughing as you sit on your small chair, the bottom of your feet decorated in blue and purple paints.  
You shrug, sipping at your tea.  
“It’s the life of art!” You exclaim, seeing the paint drippings on the newspapers under your easel.   
“That’s not poetic” Peter tells you, grinning.  
“Anything’s poetic if you say it dramatically enough” You tell him, your voice breathy and exaggerated.   
Peter rolls his eyes at you, but he was smiling. You were his best friend, he’d been dealing with you since preschool. He never realized how much you would mean to him. Especially not once you had both gone through puberty. You had been a homely child, very awkward with big teeth and a chubby figure. But after puberty and getting braces, he fell hard. He had always thought you were cute…in a friend way. But since your body filled out, he could barely keep his eyes off of you.   
You stand up, returning to your canvas, picking up your paintbrush and dipping it in the light lavender paint.   
“I don’t get how you’re so good at that” Peter tells you, watching you from his position on his bed.   
“Practice. No one is born good at it” You tell him, moving in close to work on some of the details of a butterfly.  
He sighs, smiling as he watches your movements. You always spent Sundays together. You never did anything specific. It could be homework, or watching a movie, or napping together, or a walk, or trying to make pancakes (you had yet to make a good batch from scratch), you guys could also spend the entire day doing separate things (playing on your laptop or phone) as long as you were in the same room, or, often, it would be like it was today. Peter watching you paint as he did some homework. He loved watching you paint. You were so talented. It was no wonder you had been accepted in the top art school in New York.   
Today, you were in the corner of your room, swaying your hips to Kodaline playing from your phone. Your mouth was moving, mouthing the words. Your hair was up in a very messy bun, pieces of hair sticking out of it at weird angles. The jean shorts you were wearing were hugging your hips, your tank top shoved into the waist band so it wouldn’t get in the way.  
You had paint all over your hands, a streak of blue across your cheek, along with some drops of paint on the top of your feet from paint falling off the brush you held.   
Peter smiles. He’d never let you know that he had a crush on you. He would never, ever risk your friendship.   
You look over, seeing his goofy smile. You dip your thumb in red paint, walking over and sitting in front of him, running the pad of your thumb across his forehead.  
“We are not reinacting the lion king” Peter tells you, crossing his eyes and looking up towards his forehead.  
you giggle.  
“I bet you couldn’t even lift me up” He tells you, grinning.  
“Probably not. You’d fall off the cliff if I tried” You tell him. You flop down beside him, laying on your back and staring up at the white ceiling.  
“What am I going to do without you? How am I going to survive college?” You ask, sighing as you think of your upcoming move.   
“We have facetime!” Peter says, smiling, turning to face you.  
“But it’s not the same” you pout “We’ve been with each other for years.”  
“I know. But we’ll come home for Christmas and stuff” He tells you.   
You sigh, shrugging. You’d miss him. A lot.   
“Come here” He whispers, pulling you against him, holding you close to his body.   
You sniffle, burying your face into his chest.   
You lay there for a while, before looking up at him. He was so adorable.  
“You have blue paint on your lip” Peter tells you with a smile.  
You grin, removing yourself from his arms, grabbing some red paint, running it over his lip.  
“Wanna make purple?” You ask him with a grin. He stares, eyes wide and red cheeks, nodding.


End file.
